


Forgive me, my love.

by IrisofParadise



Series: Domestic AU [3]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 13:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20949110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisofParadise/pseuds/IrisofParadise
Summary: The next step in their relationship is moving in together but after it's said and done, are they really ready for that step?





	Forgive me, my love.

**Author's Note:**

> Alex is one of my oc's and her bio can be found on my tumblr if anyone is curious. She's half Indian, a practicing Hindu, and at some point I will write how she and Anatoly meet.

Moving out of his and Vladimir's shared apartment and into one with Alex had seemed like a good idea at first. It was something they both seemed to want considering how long they had been together, just over a year now. But truthfully, Anatoly hadn't really taken into consideration just how much his life would be changing.

He was able to unpack nearly all of his things before Alex could unpack hers, what with going between school and work she didn’t have the time. So for the first week or so Anatoly grew used to the apartment being mostly his in decoration wise. Not that there was much he had but it was still his. But eventually Alex was able to begin unboxing things.

Changes began with the simple things. For one, the dishes were no longer just his. Hers were now mixed in with his, silvers and coppers amongst the plain porcelain. She had re-organized his kitchen completely by moving the dishes around and adding more spices, some of which he could only hope to learn to pronounce properly, and filled his fridge with more greenery than he'd ever had.

The first day he'd come home, late at night at that, and opened his fridge in hopes of finding leftovers from dinner, and seen the greenery he had shut and reopened the fridge a few times before closing it with a heavy sigh and left the apartment to go across the hall to where he had used to live with his younger brother.

He didn't say anything to his brother, just dragged Vladimir to his home and opened the fridge with a concerned,  _ “Vova, my fridge is full of foliage.” _

Vladimir just stared, head tilted and mouth slightly open, as he took in the different shades of green at the bottom of the fridge. Then he clapped a hand to his brother's shoulder and said,  _ “I've told you many times and will again, I hope you like rabbit food.”  _ With that said he left Anatoly staring at the vegetables.

Along with the re-organization of the kitchen came the rest of their new shared apartment. As her boxes slowly but surely began to be unpacked more and more of her things began to find their way intermingling with his. Bollywood and more American movies found themselves next to the few Russian and fewer still English dvds that Anatoly owned.

The oddest thing, that in all honestly took Anatoly too long to notice, for him to grow used to was the shrine his girlfriend had set up in the corner of their living room. He realized it two days after it'd been set up, when he was straightening up in the living room and had moved some of the boxes from the center of the room to the wall.

The shrine was small, just on a small table with candles, incense, small empty bowls, pictures, and a small statue of a figure with the head of an elephant whose name he could never seem to remember no matter how many times Alex told him. An odd feeling that he couldn't find the name for settled upon his chest.

With effort, he brushed the feeling away. 

It was another week after discovering the shrine before he found her praying in front of it. It was early in the morning before the sun had even fully risen, he'd woken up because he'd rolled over and found her side of the bed empty and cold, telling him that she'd been out of bed for quite some time. He found her sitting cross legged, hands set in prayer, eyes closed and mouth moving as she breathed out prayers, in front of the shrine. He continued watching her for a few more moments, the odd feeling from when he first discovered the shrine settling on him once more. Then with a sigh he ran a hand over his face, eyes squeezed shut, as he turned and went back to their shared room.

Of course he knew that she was a practicing Hindu. He knew but it had never fully registered in his head that she'd be practicing once they lived together. And he knows that's a stupid thought but can't help thinking it.

Along with the simple changes came the more drastic ones-- hiding his line of work and other life from Alex. In theory, it was easy. But practicing, not so much.

He worked late and often came home in the early hours in the morning. One such time he had come home, tired and exhausted, as she was cleaning the small statue of Ganesha. She paused so she could look up at him and Anatoly nearly winced when he saw the confusion and worry along with slight hurt in her eyes. 

“You said that you would be home for dinner, Tolenka.”

Anatoly rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously as he toed off his shoes. “I know. I am very sorry.”

Alex just sighed, finished dressing the statue, and stood. “Do you always have to work so late? You come home in the middle of the night. And then some nights, the few that you're actually home, you have to leave in the middle of the night.” It was clear that she was trying to keep her voice from wavering. Her hands moved as she spoke, arms crossing then uncrossing and one hand coming up to rub at her forehead before falling back to rest on her still crossed arm.

Anatoly couldn't help but to feel as though he were being pushed into a corner. “You knew that I worked strange hours. I have told you this for the past year; work takes priority,” he said almost coldly. It wasn't a tone he had ever used with her. With his men, often. With Vladimir, yes. But her? Oh no, never.

The young woman narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not appreciating the tone, and snapped back just as coolly, “I know but I didn’t realize that you wouldn't be making any time for me anymore.”

“Well I suppose we were both not expecting things then,” Anatoly says before he can properly filter his thoughts and the possible consequences this statement may have.

Alex narrows her eyes, and if Anatoly weren’t feeling so cornered he’d be able to see that she was more confused than annoyed, and places her hands on her hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He scowls and waves his hand, gesturing towards the whole apartment. “You are too clean!” He ignored her taken aback expression, clearly not expecting for that to be a complaint from someone. “You clean up everything! Too much! I am not even allowed to wear my damn shoes in my home! Was bad enough when Vova nagged me about it but you are worse!”

“It keeps the house cleaner!” Alex snapped back, confused on why he was just now bringing these things to her attention. 

But he seemed to not be listening to her, just continued rushing ahead with more of the little things that he hadn’t realized were actually bothering him. “You make the bed too! And you cook so much, but I don’t care because I can’t even remember the last time that we ate something I actually like!”

Alex leaned back slightly, offended. “You  _ like  _ my cooking!”

An annoyed huff from the Russian man, “I do but I am not vegetarian like you, Sasha!”

The moment the nickname leaves his mouth he knows he’s messed up. But no amount of backtracking fixes it. “Alex, I-”

“That is  _ not my name _ !” She snaps, cutting him off. 

Alex  _ hated _ that nickname and Anatoly knew it. Of course Anatoly had explained how ‘Sasha’ came from ‘Alexandra’ but she still didn’t care for it. Years of being picked on by fellow classmates had made her start going by her middle name and so she hated it when even that would get changed to something else. 

Neither know exactly when they've moved so that they're right in front of each other, yelling into the other’s face.

“You move my shit and I can't find anything in my own damn home! It isn’t just my kitchen you continue re-arranging, you do it to my clothes too!”

“You say that as if you aren’t moving my things around!” Alex snapped back, eyes narrowing once more as she took half a step closer. “It’s like you just  _ have _ to keep touching my stuff on my dresser! Just leave it all alone!”

“Your things are even on  _ my side _ of our bedroom! My side!” Anatoly yells, thinking of a few of her little trinkets and knick-knacks on his dresser in their bedroom. 

“I don't understand why you can't just clean up after yourself! You're a grown ass man and you just leave your nasty, sopping wet towels on the bathroom floor!”

He huffed as she poked him in the chest and swatted her hand away, angry but still careful to not actually use any strength. “Do not even get me started on the bathroom, Alex! You have all of your bottles of shit everywhere! And you leave your hairs in bottom of the tub!”

She leaned back, a scowl painted on her face. “I have long hair! My bad,” an exaggerated wave of her hands and sarcasm dripping from her tone, “if I don’t manage to rinse it all out! At least I can keep the rest of the house clean! When was the last time you actually cleaned around here?! Hm?!”

Anatoly spluttered for a moment as he tried to think but wasn’t able to toss a time back to her. “Is not like you leave me much chance! The moment you get home you sweep and clean just so you can bitch about it!”

They turn away from each other, huffing and glaring at the walls. And Anatoly is the first to sigh and move from this position.

“I’m tired. Am going to bed now,” he snaps quietly before brushing past her. He doesn't flinch even as he feels her glaring heatedly into the back of his head, he just doesn’t have the energy to care at the moment. 

And as he falls asleep he thinks to himself that he can just apologize later as the slight tinge of guilt begin to fester under his skin. 

He wakes several hours later to the smell of food cooking and the brief feeling of contentedness is washed away as the memory of the fight that morning jumps back to mind. It’s with much effort that he manages to force himself from bed, get dressed, and head to the kitchen. 

He watches from the distance of the table as she places rice in a bowl and that bowl onto a copper tray. Another bowl is placed on the tray and then another. 

“Do you need help?” Anatoly asks, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. It’s a rather silly offer as she already has the table set but it’s the only thing he can think to say. He hates that he feels bad for yelling at her, it’s a feeling he isn’t truly used to feeling; guilt. It didn’t do well in his line of work after all. But this, being with her, was also not a part of his work. She was the exact opposite, innocence and home.

Alex doesn’t say anything but he does notice how she pauses her movements and seems to tense ever so slightly before slowly shaking her head in the negative.

“Alright,” Anatoly says quietly, sounding defeated almost. He pulls one of the chairs out and sits, continues watching her as she pours a thick looking sauce into a dish and places that onto the tray as well. 

In all honesty they'd never really had a serious argument before. Alex was typically laid back, a go-with-the-flow type person. And she understood that Anatoly had a life that didn't always involve her. Just as he understood she had her own life that didn't involve him in every waking moment. He'd made time for her before they were living together when he could. But when he couldn't, it wasn't always a bad thing as Alex had school, a job of her own, and friends. Living together was making it harder for Anatoly to make time for dates in a way.

She was always there now and in truth, he didn't have the time to rest before making a caring gesture for her. It was harder to separate work life from home life. He'd never wanted her involved in his work life before and hadn't thought clearly before moving in with her, he'd just wanted to be with her and now that he was he was quickly discovering how difficult it was to hide his secret life from her.

It takes a few more moments of silence as they sit across from each other at the small table that both say their apologies quickly. 

“I’m sorry, Tolenka.” “Alex, I am sorry.”

They pause, slowly looking up from the food to each other. The small smile on Alex's face make Anatoly sag in relief as the tension left his body.

“I did not mean to yell at you,” Anatoly continues. He frowns when Alex shakes her head.

“It's alright. I lost my temper too,” she says. “Living together has been difficult to get used to for me, honestly,” Alex admits after a moment. The admission makes Anatoly nearly stand and go to hug her right then. “I think I forgot that it's probably difficult for you too?”

Anatoly purses his lip, afraid to say the wrong thing, but nods slowly all the same. “It has not been easy, you are right.” He leans back in his chair, rubs his chin thoughtfully as he tries to think of a happy medium for the two of them.

But Alex beats him to the point. She fills her bowl with rice and then a nice serving of the thick sauce and holds it out to Anatoly.

“I made something different for dinner. My dad and I don’t eat meat but my step-mom does and she sent me a recipe of hers,” Alex explains as Anatoly slowly exchanges his empty bowl for hers. “It’s lamb korma.”

Anatoly looks at the food and takes a deep breath. It smells good, like spices and meat and Anatoly already knows it’s going to taste wonderful as it is Alex’s cooking after all.

“It smells delicious, zvezda moya.”

Alex grins and fixes herself a bowl, a different sauce that Anatoly recognizes as left over vegetable curry being poured over the rice. 

It’s a small step but a step in the right direction none the less and both feel much freer and relaxed than they have in a good while.


End file.
